Disclaimer: GSG is the rightful property of Yuu Aida, and the setting and all affiliated characters in these fics do not belong to the authors.

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Smoke Grenades

By Sasahara17

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She was really beginning to have second thoughts about this.

Claes rolled the little trinket in her hands over and over again. This was the first time she had ever actually NEEDED to use her Ninja skills in a life or death situation (okay it wasn't that bad, but her reputation was at stake), and she was feeling less than confident about the whole matter. Her part attempts at mastering this lost art yielded less than spectacular results, so she wasn't entirely sure that you would be able to pull this off.

She had the savings. She knew where to buy the item. All she lacked was one thing...

I mean, the logical thing she could do was just go up to him and ask a simple question. But alas, Claes knew that asking him a question like that about her would embarrass Claes to no end. Asking her directly would tip Claes hand, so that was out of the question as well. So that simply let the most ridiculous option the bespectacled girl could think of.

Claes gave a sigh. Pulling on her Ninja mask and checking her outfit one more time, Claes knew that it was now or never.

"Oh well, lets give it a try."

--

Petruska was innocently loading her laundry into the drier several loud cracks sounded, and the redhead was plunged into a world of grey smog. For a moment the teenage cyborg believed that the crier had broken (again) and was now sending liberal amounts of fog everywhere.

The she heard the sound of two feet faintly landing on the ground.

Despite being caught completely flat footed, Petra's training kicked in. She released her hold on the basket containing her laundry and snapped into a fighting posture. She waited.

Nothing happened.

"What?" Petra wondered aloud as she realized the danger had passed. The smoke began to clear, and Petra found she was completely alone in the room. In fact, once the fog had cleared completely, it was as nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Then Petra noticed that all her clothes were now scattered about on the floor. "Oh drat." She sighed, bending down to collect her clothes. She would have to rewash them.

Her confusion persisted for sometime after. What just happened? Had she imagined things?

It was only later she discovered that two sets of her undergarments were missing. Her scream alerted the adults, and the resulting compound wide search for the panty and bra thief was unprecedented in all of the SWA's operational history. Jean and Lorenzo wanted to find the thief and arrest him. Petra wanted to shoot the pervert on sight.

The panties resurfaced the very next day under Agent Ricci's desk while Petra's bras were found stuffed hastily in his desk drawer. The curious circumstances of the re-emergence of the said undergarments resulted in a stern reprimand for the flustered handler while Petra walked around for the majority of the day with a cherry red face. Elsewhere, Claes realized too late that returning the said undergarments by placing them in conspicuous locations in and around Allesandro's workspace may not be the most prudent way of doing about that business.

Oh well, at least she had Petra's measurements without anyone even suspecting her. The ends justified the means. Mission accomplished.

--

Several days later, Petra celebrated her first 'birthday' (i.e. the date she became operational). Most of the 2nd Gen girls attended, as did their handlers. For her, it was both a cause for celebration and a time of sorrow. One year older, one year closer to dying. Still Petra being an airhead and all didn't dwell on the fact too much.

After the celebrations were over and the other 2nd Gens went off on their training sessions 'Sandro had given Petra the day off) the redhead returned to her room in good spirits, the three dresses and gowns she received as presents in her arms.

It was of great surprise to her to find a small wrapped package lying on her bed.

"What?" She curiously examined the package. It wasn't very large, and there was nothing written on it. Shaking it cautiously and sniffing it, Petra confirmed it wasn't a bomb. Logic told her she should go check with the adults about the box, but her curiosity got the better of her.

'Sandro entered her room ten minutest later and was promptly attacked by his young protégé, wearing nothing but a set of perfectly fitting Victoria's Secret undergarments, pieces of the clothing she had worn to the party before flung haphazardly all over her room in her haste to try on her newest present.

"Oh thank you Mister Sandro!" Petra squealed as she leapt into her surprised handler's arms. "These must have cost a fortune! Thank you so much!"

It was the natural conclusion to reach after all. Who else knew her measurements as well as her dear 'Sandro?

Normally, 'Sandro would have been elated to have a mostly undressed girl tackle him. In the light that that Priscilla and Olga were standing next to him (with presents of their own), coupled with the fact that is tattered reputation was still recovering from the panty thief fiasco...

"You bastard..." Priscilla growled.

"Ricci..." Olga growled.

The distinct sound of a Desert Eagle being clocked made 'Sandro's blood freeze. Oh shit...

"Thank you 'Sandro! I love you so much!"

--

"Claes?"

"Hm?"

"Aren't you going to Petra's birthday party? I thought you wanted to thank her for the time she took you out of the agency?"

"I found a better way to do it."

"How so?"

"... you'll be surprised at what you can find on E-bay."

"Claes, your glasses have that ominous glint again..."

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